


My Sacrifice

by ladyeternal



Series: Angelic Mates 'verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Mating, Dubious Consent, Lucifer Being Lucifer, M/M, Magic Made Them Do It, Possessive Castiel, Team Free Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-05 00:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1798867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyeternal/pseuds/ladyeternal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer thinks he’s found a way to get to Sam without interference… something that forces Castiel to make a decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [morganoconner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganoconner/gifts).



> Spoilers: To stay on the safe side, all aired episodes
> 
> Notes: This fic is decidedly AU as of episode 5x16. This could be read as vaguely dub-con, but that’s not how I see it. Now with a beautiful banner made by the lovely and talented [knowmefirst](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Knowmefirst)! Thank you so much, bb! ♥
> 
> Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, certain events would NEVER have happened and there would be unabashed pr0n. I’m only playing with this world for my own amusement and the free entertainment of others.
> 
> Feedback is adored, so if you like the fic, please comment! And the more details the better; I love knowing what people like about my work.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Music: [Last Stand – Adelitas Way](http://lyrics.wikia.com/Adelitas_Way:Last_Stand)  
> [You’re My Temptation – Alice Cooper](http://lyrics.wikia.com/Gracenote:Alice_Cooper:You%27re_My_Temptation)  
> [That Kind of Love – Alison Krauss](http://lyrics.wikia.com/Alison_Krauss:That_Kind_of_Love)  
> [Come Undone – Duran Duran](http://lyrics.wikia.com/Gracenote:Duran_Duran:Come_Undone)  
> [Hallelujah – Jeff Buckley](http://lyrics.wikia.com/Jeff_Buckley%3AHallelujah)  
> [I Was Made For You – Martin Page](http://lyrics.wikia.com/Gracenote:Martin_Page:I_Was_Made_For_You)  
> [Angel – Sarah McLachlan](http://lyrics.wikia.com/Gracenote:Sarah_McLachlan:Angel)

~ooooOOOooo~

 

After God’s rejection of their plea, Castiel didn’t have the heart to leave the Winchesters. He was cut off, betrayed, heartsick and losing faith. That, more than anything else, was contributing to the serious decline in his grace. Faith in the Father had sustained it, a trickle of strength that kept him from falling completely. Now even that had been taken from him. He’d kept that knowledge from Sam and Dean, not wanting them to know. They didn’t talk about their own human feelings anyway, derisively dismissing such things as ‘chick flick moments’. There was no hope that they could comprehend an angel’s emotions.

Castiel wasn’t emotionless. No angel was. God had created them as beings of pure love, made to serve; it was the core of everything they did. The thing that made them so terribly deadly as well as so infinitely forgiving. For the love of millions, they could destroy hundreds. For the love of the Father, they could destroy a single human life bending it to their Father’s will.

For the love of a single human, they could fall from unimaginable heights. As Castiel had done.

It seemed his fate to choose Dean Winchester over all else. From the moment he’d found Dean in Hell, taken that beautiful, broken soul into his keeping, nothing else had occupied his thoughts. It had taken considerable willpower not to complete the bond he had started; the instinct to do so had taken Castiel utterly by surprise, and he’d left a single handprint as proof of his vulnerability where Dean was concerned.

_And that was before I ever heard him speak,_ Castiel mused as he followed Dean through the abandoned house. They were searching for a text that had once belonged to the Argentium Astrum, supposedly sealed in a secret room within the house. The order had a long history of dabbling with Enochian magicks, and the text was allegedly written by Aleister Crowley himself. A valuable resource, if they could find it. Sam was at the historical archives, looking for any record of activity of the order in the area, but the house had supposedly belonged to a high ranking member’s descendants, and Dean hadn’t wanted to wait.

They were moving carefully, not speaking much. Castiel didn’t want to talk, and Dean was, for once, being sensitive enough to let him have the silence he wanted. Dean was even getting that ‘personal space’ he was constantly harping on, because they were examining opposite ends of each room in an attempt to search more efficiently.

The rustle of wings didn’t sound out of place; the abandoned house’s windows had long been shattered and there were holes in the walls large enough to throw a cat through. Dean didn’t give the faintest indication of alarm, obviously shrugging it off as a bird somewhere in the house.

Castiel knew better. In the next instant, he was spinning and crossing the room to Dean, who had cried out in agony and buckled to the ground. His breath was rasping through clenched teeth, and his eyes were shut so tightly that his entire face contorted in a grimace.

“A shame, really,” came the too-gentle voice. “Sam will be heartbroken when I tell him.”

“Lucifer.” Castiel stepped back from Dean, placing himself between his human and the Morningstar. His sword came to his hand instantly; he still possessed enough grace to wield it. The Morningstar would not take Dean without a fight. “Release him now.”

“Can’t do that, brother.” Lucifer’s tone was almost regretful. He stood perfectly still, unmoving in his crumbling vessel, gazing past Castiel at the elder Winchester in a crumpled heap of pain on the floor. “The magic I’ve cast can only be undone two ways, and the keys aren’t in my hands.”

Castiel took a threatening step forward, the point of his sword inching up. “Then you will tell me how. I did not raise him from Hell to die at your hands.”

“Actually, that’s always been a distinct possibility precisely _because_ of the reason you raised him. But that’s not the issue here. You see, _you_ are the key to his life, Castiel.” When Castiel startled, Lucifer’s smile widened just a fraction: a chill, triumphant smile. “Dean is currently experiencing some powerful… shall we say, urges? He’s been repressing them since I rose, and that’s actually rather unfair, considering what he’s had so close to hand.”

Understanding dawned, and Castiel felt a flood of rage like ice water in his vessel’s veins. “You have loosed those denied impulses upon him… all at once.”

“Famine did work for me, after all, and I know Dean a lot better than he did. It wasn’t hard to open the floodgates,” Lucifer confirmed. “Which wouldn’t be so bad for him, except, of course, that if he continues to repress those urges, the magicks I’ve cast will eventually cause his heart to explode from the strain.”

Another step, driven by fury, and Castiel’s sword was now tight in his hand and pointed directly at Lucifer. “You will undo this… or you will not live to face Michael.”

“Temper, little brother.” Lucifer’s smile never faltered, maddening in its arrogance. “There is a way to release him, but you’re the only one capable. You began the process; only you can finish it without killing Dean.” Castiel’s eyes flickered dangerously, and Lucifer chuckled. “Did you think I’ve been away from the Host so long that I wouldn’t recognize the mark you left? The bond you refused to finish? That’s the price of his life, brother mine: finish the bond, and he lives. Leave him as he is, and he dies.”

“If he dies, I cannot resurrect him,” Castiel added, seeing the outcomes of either option. “Another angel would have to do so, and that would mean calling the Host to myself. They would destroy me for my disobedience, and make his consent a condition of his resurrection.”

“And if you complete the bond, Michael can never claim him.” Lucifer’s eyes were bright, victorious. “The brat he unknowingly spawned is too young to use, and Michael cannot oppose me directly without destroying whole suns. By the time the boy is old enough to house Michael properly, it will be too late.”

Castiel’s eyes snapped blue flame. “You will have much to answer for, when the final accounting comes, Morningstar.”

“ _If_ it comes, Castiel.” Dean moaned behind Castiel and Lucifer gestured, stepping back. “Decide quickly, brother… will you damn yourself? Or the world?”

Another rustle; Lucifer vanished where he stood. Castiel retreated to Dean instantly, his first thought to get Dean up and out of the house… if he could get them out to the car, they could get to Sam…

The hissing rush of flame springing to life outside ended that hope. Castiel could smell the pungent smoke of burning holy oil and knew, in an instant, that they were cut off. Whether Dean lived or died was secondary in Lucifer’s plan; with he and Dean trapped here, Lucifer could reach Sam without interference, and begin the process of breaking Sam’s will to refuse.

His mind racing, desperation edging his thoughts and Dean curled into himself and shaking from the pain, Castiel seized the only option left. _Gabriel… I know you can hear me… please, Gabriel… grant favor to an outcast, from one who cast himself out… Lucifer has found us… has cut Dean and I off from Sam… please, if you have any love for this Earth… for these humans that Father bid us to love as we love Him so long ago… you have to protect Sam Winchester. Lucifer is coming for him._

Stillness in his mind, a prayer sung into the aether. Precious seconds ticked by silently.

_*I shouldn’t get involved with this mess, brother… but I’ll do what you ask. If it doesn’t get me killed, you can bet I’m collecting on this one.*_

A rush of gratitude flowed back, and then Gabriel’s mind was occupied elsewhere. Castiel returned his attention to Dean immediately. His charge, his ward… his beautiful, flawed rebellious human… “Dean?”

Viridian eyes, pupils blown wide from painful lust, slid open to meet his borrowed blue. “Go… to Sammy, Cas…”

“I can’t, Dean; there is a ring of holy fire around the house.” Castiel was careful not to touch him, uncertain of how to proceed. It seemed likely that, given his greater experience and the severity of the need unleashed within him, that Dean should simply do what his body wanted once he understood that Castiel consented. If Dean gave in to the impulses, it could allow him clarity… buy them time to think of a way out of this without completing the bond… “How much of what Lucifer said did you understand?”

“Sex whammy…” Dean managed, the words forced out as if forming coherent syllables was more than Dean could bear. “Gonna kill me… s’okay… long’s… Sammy’s safe… gotta be something… you can use to break out…”

“You are my concern,” Castiel interrupted, his voice much calmer than his mind. “Sam is being protected; I have seen to that. We must undo this somehow, Dean. We don’t have a choice.”

“No.” The word moaned out through clenched jaws, and Dean’s lust-blown eyes narrowed in anger before another tremor struck him. “No, Cas…”

“I understand, Dean.” He thought he did; Dean was ashamed of weakness, and was not, to Castiel’s knowledge, inclined towards homosexual impulses. But the body and the spirit were two different things, and Dean’s body was under attack. Any wounds to the spirit could be addressed later. “We need not speak of this once it is over. But you will die if we do not do this, and I am incapable of resurrecting you. Those that are would demand your acquiescence to Michael. Either way, you will not survive.”

“No… Cas… you don’t…” Dean squeezed his eyes closed, unable to hold that too-blue gaze. It was so much… too much… he wanted more than ever before in his life… it took everything to hold on… to not reach out and take what he wanted… “Changes everything… won’t ruin you… not you, too…” His body spasmed and Dean curled harder into himself, fighting desperately for control… he couldn’t… he had to hold on…

Castiel took in the half-hissed words and recalled, with almost blinding clarity, the strange truth of this righteous man for whom he’d given up so much. “You still don’t believe you deserve to be saved,” Castiel murmured, wonder in his voice. “After everything I have done… everything I have given up to aid you… you don’t believe you deserved any of it.”

A whimper left Dean, all he could manage, and then he slumped against the wall, trembling violently and praying that the solid, asexual object would lend him the stability he no longer felt.

There was nothing else that could be done. Castiel knew Dean Winchester far too well. He would not be coaxed into action, not to save himself. Castiel would not be spared the choice Lucifer had presented him with. Even if Dean could have been pressed to take action, to take the edge off the urgency and give them time to think, there wasn’t likely to be any way around the decision.

And Lucifer had also probably known that, in the end, Castiel would never allow Dean Winchester to die if there was anything he could do to prevent it. But Castiel lacked the much of the knowledge necessary to complete the bond without Dean’s aid… unless…

He wasn’t certain he could do it; he’d never attempted such a thing before. But the situation left him with little choice. Careful to stay where he was, out of contact with Dean, Castiel closed his eyes and reached deep. _James?_

_*Castiel? What is it?*_

_I must… ask a favor, and your consent. The situation is dire, and requires a course of action I would not otherwise indulge._

Images flowed from one to the other, snatches of sound. _*I owe him my life… and Amelia and Claire’s… why would you even have to ask?*_

_This is not your inclination, nor is it any part of the agreement you made with me._

_*I agreed to give you my body so you could do what is needful, Castiel. Keeping Dean Winchester alive is a rather large part of that. Even without owing him and Sam the lives of my wife and child, of course I would consent.*_

_Then… please… I have no experience with human passions… I… if I brought him to harm, even to save his life…_

Understanding. Compassion. Possibly even a trace of faint amusement. _*Of course.*_

The images came swiftly, together with knowledge that was common to human adults but never needed by James Novak. Castiel absorbed it all with angelic facility, and then touched Jimmy with his fading grace. _Thank you, James._

_*Castiel… wait… I think… if I understand what the bond is… what it means…*_

_It would be uncomfortable at times not to… indulge, but it is not necessary after completion, James. I would never-_

_*You have to… you’ll hurt him if you don’t. It’s how humans are; how we’re wired. You have my consent, Castiel, to do whatever is needful… and this will be needful; trust me.*_

Overwhelmed by the gift, and filled with a sudden, nonsensical hope that his vessel was right, Castiel brushed another pulse of warm grace over the human soul still tucked safely within the confines of the body he inhabited. _Thank you… sleep now._ There was a final flicker of encouragement, and then that human soul slid back into dormancy.

Castiel opened his eyes. Dean was emitting tiny groans of pain, his body wracked by tremors. Dean… his impossible, irascible, beautiful Dean… a being of such profound light, and yet one who refused to see what shone so brightly to others.

_*Sex is a joyous thing between consenting partners.*_ Jimmy’s voice echoed in his thoughts as new knowledge arranged itself, waiting to be used. _*A vehicle of catharsis, of affirmation, of release and relief… but add love… unreserved, honest love… and it is the closest thing to grace that a human being can feel.*_

He needed this to be precisely that for Dean… needed Dean to understand all that had passed between them was for love… love born of the grace of God…

Reaching in with gentle hands, Castiel’s fingers found Dean’s jaw; it was clenched so tight that Cas could almost hear Dean’s teeth grinding. Gentle pressure coaxed Dean’s face up and away from his bent knees, and Dean whimpered aloud in agony. “Dean…”

“Cas…” Tears were dripping from those sealed viridian eyes, Dean’s voice wrecked with pain and lust on levels he’d never known before. Cas’ fingers were hot against his skin, and the contact was like a live electrical current coursing over his nerves. “I’m not worth it, Cas… don’t…”

“You have always been worth it to me, Dean.” Ignoring Dean’s mewl of protest, Castiel leaned in and gently melted his lips into Dean’s.

Dean’s response was instantaneous. His hands snapped up to lock on either side of Cas’ head, and Cas was catching Dean in his arms as Dean tumbled them back, lips voracious and tongue insistent and there was no artistry whatsoever. Castiel met his desperation with gentle acceptance, letting Dean ravage his mouth while his fingers worked to get Dean out of his clothes. The moment Dean knew it he was helping, struggling out of his denim button-down and tee shirt and crying out when Castiel’s left hand flattened against the hard-packed muscles of his chest, stroking softly. “Cas…”

“It’s all right, Dean.” Cas leaned up, kissing Dean again, soft and warm. He could taste the need in Dean’s body, let himself respond in kind. There was a freedom in this that intoxicated as he felt Dean’s body shudder against the gentle exploration of his fingers. His right hand slid up Dean’s arm, enjoying the leap of the muscles under his fingers, stopping just short of the brand he’d left nearly two years ago.

_That is my mark… I remade this body… restored this man… and Heaven has forsaken me because I would not forsake him. Why shouldn’t I claim him? They delivered him into my keeping; by what right must I cede him to Michael? Lucifer’s reasons aside, Dean Winchester is mine… and it is time he knew it._

His fingers slid into place, fitting perfectly over the mark they had left so long ago. Like a key opening a lock, Castiel’s grace flared in response, suffusing through Dean in a warm bath of power and love.

It was different from when Anna or Pamela had touched it; they’d had no connection with it, no grace to respond to it. Sensation drove through Dean like lightening and his already overtaxed senses couldn’t withstand it, and Cas was pulling his head down to kiss him while he orgasmed hard in his jeans, and Dean’s hands fisted in Cas’ trench as he tried desperately to hold on.

The magic was still strong; Lucifer hadn’t lied about the bond’s completion being the key. Dean let out another mewl as Cas shifted their bodies, settling Dean on the floor on his back. “It’s all right,” Cas soothed again, stretching out across Dean’s body and taking that beloved, perfectly molded face in his hands. He had re-painted the colors of the glorious, expressive eyes that gazed at him with such fear: not of what physical acts they might perform, but of the changes those acts might wreak in their lives… of losing Castiel… Castiel leaned in and brushed a kiss over each eye, over the bridge of the nose he’d rebuilt, the tender flesh he had re-stretched over those arching cheekbones and the strong, stubborn jaw, slightly rough from new growth that would not have been possible without him.

It was possessiveness that lent his touches confidence, a knowledge that this man would not be here now, whimpering and gasping and fisting his hands in Castiel’s hair, were it not for his power. Heaven had waged war for him, but it was Castiel who had won him. Castiel, who had once presided over the death of kings, whose sword had once barred the gates of Eden against Adam and Eve’s attempts to return. Falling or no, the man who now pleaded for relief and release in his arms was living proof of his grace in all its glory.

He whispered Dean’s name, over and over, reassurance and absolution and possession echoing in the single syllable as his lips followed the lines of Dean’s throat, hovering briefly over the throb of Dean’s pulse at the base, just above the collarbone. That pulse was racing from the magic and the stimulation, but it was Castiel that had infused the blood in those veins. Almost impulsively, Castiel ran his tongue the length of the artery, a long slow swipe that left Dean gasping. “Cas… oh, God, Cas…”

“Don’t bring Him into this,” Castiel admonished, his teeth nipping Dean’s jaw in chastisement. Dean arched in response, hands digging frantically into Cas’ trench coat and trying to shove it off him. “He didn’t raise you from Hell and rebuild your flesh. I did.”

Dean blinked, breath coming in shallow pants, and he stared up at Cas in something like wonder. “Cas?”

“You belong to me, Dean.” Castiel’s eyes were bright, hot lapis pools. Dean was caught by them, snared by their light. “You have always belonged to me.”

Heat flushed through Dean, pooling in his belly, aching for fulfillment of the promise in those words. Dean shoved at the trench coat again and Castiel shucked it willingly. Then, after a moment’s thought, Castiel rolled away. Dean actually cried out at the loss of heat and touch, feeling like cold, sharp needles were driving through his skin in its absence. But Castiel was spreading out the trench like a blanket, shedding his tie and shirt before he returned to Dean’s side. A sob of relief shuddered in Dean’s throat as Cas gathered him into strong, bare arms, the touch of skin on skin igniting a thousand brushfires in Dean’s blood, and Cas was rolling them over onto the coat and kissing Dean again, deep and possessive, letting Dean’s hands roam his body at their will.

And Castiel didn’t let up this time. His lips and tongue and fingertips explored Dean’s body as if inspecting what damage Dean might have done to it since Castiel had sculpted him, lingering over scars he hadn’t recreated with a hum of disapproval that made Dean thrash and beg without words for forgiveness… for more…

When he finally unbuckled Dean’s belt, fingers manipulating the button and zipper of the damply sticky jeans, Dean’s breath dissolved into even shallower pants, an edge of a whimper at the end of each one, and Castiel smiled at the sound. The spell had set the stage, but the reactions were real, and Castiel would draw them from Dean again with no interference from magick or Hell or anything in between once they were free. His vessel had granted him permission, and with the bond complete, it would be torture for both of them not to.

Dean moaned, long and loud, as the restrictions of cotton and denim were peeled away, leaving him feeling like he’d suddenly been released from a cage. They had nothing to clean up with, nothing to use for lube… Dean had no idea what Cas was going to do…

Until those soft lips started brushing gentle kisses over his inner thighs and sending shimmers of need through his veins again. In that moment, Dean wouldn’t have cared what else Castiel did, so long as he kept doing things like that at the same time… and he did. Brushing soft kisses over the tender skin, nibbling every so often and savoring the cries each one drew from his human, Cas’ hands urged under Dean’s thighs, pressing until his knees were bent and his hips were arching off the floor, and then Castiel shifted, catching those hips and holding Dean up… pressing him open…

The first touch of Cas’ tongue had Dean bucking hard in Cas’ grip, gasping in shock. No one had ever, _ever_ done this before, and Dean had been with some damned adventurous lovers in his life. Cas’ fingers were steady pressure, keeping him exactly where Cas wanted him, and that tongue dipped and wriggled and stroked and Dean honestly thought he was going to die from this no matter what happened… ordinarily sensitive nerves were hypersensitive in light of the spell, and Cas was nothing if not determined to wring every shriek and gasp and sigh and moan that he could out of Dean before this was over…

And then sparks of grace danced off that tongue as it slipped inside the tight ring of muscle, and Dean was climaxing hard for the second time, screaming Castiel’s name and fisting the trench coat so hard that the seams ripped.

His hips were lowered gently to the floor as Cas shifted again. Dean heard a rustle of clothing as Castiel disposed of the last of his own ensemble… was still shaking from the force of his orgasm when Castiel ran his tongue up Dean’s flagging erection, his grace infusing the motion and reigniting the spell. Dean went hard again so fast his vision dimmed, and he couldn’t suppress the moaning cry that welled up when two of Castiel’s fingers dragged through the fresh ejaculate before sliding beneath his hips.

If Dean could have processed any type of coherent thought before, the realization that Castiel was using his own come to prep him permanently disabled that capacity. It was a practical solution to an important problem, and so damned dirty-fucking-hot that Dean very nearly orgasmed again from the mere thought.

Two fingers worked their way in, slow and insistent, opening Dean’s muscles and massaging slick fluid and warm grace until Dean was actually weeping in need, aching for Cas with sharp, desperate hunger… “Cas… please… please, Cas, now… now… please now…”

Castiel brushed an open kiss over his left hip, mouthing the pubic bone. Dean arched hard into the slight suction, keening. “Anything you wish, Dean…”

Another kiss, and then those fingers withdrew, slowly replaced by blunt, hard heat that made everything inside Dean roll over and sigh in welcome… blessed relief from unbearable ache… completion of an embrace half-remembered… Dean wrapped around Cas with arms and legs, his head dropping back as a long moan of welcome broke through his lips. “Don’t stop, Cas… whatever you do, don’t stop…”

The tight, clasping heat overwhelmed Castiel; for a moment, he could do nothing but feel… savor… absorb the way he’d somehow, unconsciously, built this body to fit perfectly around his vessel’s erection. He must have done in anticipation of this, just as he’d begun the bond by leaving the brand on Dean’s shoulder… instinctively needing to claim this human for his own.

And Dean wanted him to. Writhed against him and pleaded for it. It was a miracle that only his Father could have wrought, in all His infinite cleverness…

Faith blossomed once again as Castiel gave Dean what he begged for, hips finding a powerful rhythm that sawed across Dean’s prostate, which was so perfectly sensitive that Castiel could only marvel at what he’d done unknowing. Faith found not through the Host, but from the Father Himself… from the infinite love of the Alpha and Omega… He’d had no reason to intervene because He had already given them the means to avert disaster… and their reward for discovering His plan was a bond forged of love that would never be broken.

It swelled in his grace until Castiel could barely remember what it felt like to fall… could feel only Dean, who clung to him in such sweet surrender and made such beautiful sounds as he matched Castiel stroke for stroke, whose tears of joy brushed damp streaks against Castiel’s shoulders as Dean kissed them…

Castiel’s right hand slid up again, locking on his brand, half of his claim, the other hand gliding down to lock onto Dean’s right buttock. Dean was close… he could hear it in Dean’s cries… and it wasn’t going to be long before he reached his own release… leaning down, he kissed Dean again before whispering, “Come for me, beloved…”

Dean’s vision went white as he obeyed, every fiber of his being seeming to explode in the most powerful climax of his life. And Castiel’s grace wound through him again, sustaining the high and pushing him higher… higher… Dean was screaming again, untamed bliss shattering through him, and the blinding white across his vision seemed somehow brighter… Cas’ hand on his lower cheek so hot it seemed to burn… the warm rush inside him as Cas followed him off the edge of the world…

When reality finally returned, Castiel was no longer inside him. Dean was folded carefully against Castiel’s chest and Cas’ hand was stroking comforting circles over his back. Blinking, still half-dazed, Dean pushed himself up on one elbow and gazed down at his angel. “Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?” Lapis eyes focused on him, watching carefully for any signs that the spell had not, in fact, been broken. Castiel had felt it dissolve in the face of the bond, but with Lucifer, one could never really be sure of anything.

For a moment, Dean couldn’t speak. Emotion crowded his tongue, tangling the words until there was nothing to do but stare down at his angel and try to understand… Cas had saved him from the spell, but at what cost? To Cas, to Sam, to the world…

Castiel saw the confusion and pain well up in those beautiful viridian eyes and reached up, brushing a hand through the soft hair he’d spun from spider-webs and stardust. “It’s all right, Dean. I promise. Sam is safe, and so are you.”

Tears welled in Dean’s eyes, threatening to spill unchecked, before he could get control over himself again. They were still trapped; Lucifer was still out there. There was still an apocalypse to stop. Things to do; lives to save…

And a way, somehow, to release Cas from the bond Lucifer had forced him to complete that needed to be found. Dean didn’t deserve him; Jimmy had a family that was waiting for him. Cas had given up far too much to be bound to someone as undeserving as Dean for the rest of eternity. _Can’t keep Cas… wouldn’t be fair to Jimmy… even if we win, Sammy’s gonna leave… happiest when he’s as far from me as he can get… Dad’s dead… Jo and Ellen… no one… don’t deserve anyone, anyway… can’t protect them… can’t keep them safe… can’t do one damn thing right by any of ‘em…_

Feeling the spiral of despair in Dean’s heart, Castiel sat up with him slowly and fitted his hand to the brand on Dean’s shoulder again. Absolution poured through the bond, trying to counteract the poisonous thoughts, and Dean’s eyes closed as tears slipped free and tracked slowly down his cheeks, his mouth dropping open in a silent ‘o’. “It is all right, Dean,” Castiel repeated. “We have a good deal to discuss, once we get out of this place.”

Dean swallowed and nodded, opening his eyes. “Then we’d better get started. Where’d our clothes go?” A rustle of magic, and they were clothed again, the garments clean and dry. Castiel wore only the button-down shirt, leaving the tie and blazer in a neatly tied bundle beside them on the floor. “What the Hell, Cas? I thought you couldn’t do stuff like that anymore.”

“My grace is… recharged, if not restored completely.” Castiel smiled, running gentle fingers through Dean’s hair again. “A benefit of… our joining.” His eyes unfocused for a moment. “Gabriel and Sam are coming… they are going to try and breach the ring of fire so that we may escape.”

Ignoring the faint twinge of muscles well-stretched from passion, Dean stood and helped Castiel to his feet. “Then we’d better go meet ‘em.”

Sensing that Dean’s turmoil was not yet abated, Castiel could only follow his mate out the door. There would be time later to reassure him of all he deserved… and Castiel would see that they found the time, no matter what happened.


End file.
